She never had a garden, but she sure tended to my hair like it was her own bed of roses. Always made sure my hair was just the right height, trimmed and moisturised. When she heard about the newest salon that worked magic ko kasi, she made it her mission to take me and beamed when she saw my head glistening in the sunshine. It made her proud. In one hand she held a spray can of sheen and a comb; in the other a brush with thatch bristles. Gently, she first brushed the flat sides of my haircut, then used her plump fingers to fondle the follicles of my crown, finishing off with a cloud of sheen that smelled like candy. Living in Soshanguve as a young boy with an adored and adoring mum, Welcome’s life almost stops when his mum is murdered by her new boyfriend. The upturned chair, his mum’s lifeless face, the blood on the floor, the glasses with the gold detail that Welcome had taken from a precious cupboard, the boyfriend’s body, a tableau that would be impossible to unsee. But this is the beginning of a journey which takes the author through school and university, with the help of his remaining family, and allows him to explore a South Africa that is almost impossible to describe. Through student politics, journalism studies, Fees Must Fall and then as a freelance journalist, Lishivha documents the living country as he documents his sexuality, his body, his choices. Welcome Mandla Lishivha’s exquisitely crafted memoir is unlike anything you have ever read. Boy on the Run is a staggering exploration of identity through grief, love and friendship, giving us, Lishivha’s readers, a glorious song of self-expression.